


Soar

by scy



Category: Merlin - Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-01
Updated: 2010-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-05 14:10:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scy/pseuds/scy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is no way to prepare for the unexpected</p>
            </blockquote>





	Soar

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to seperis, who not only provided tons of valuable advice, but who read along and kept telling me when I needed more.

Many things began in small steps, and Arthur had learned that some of most significant, be they alliances or tragedies could not be predicted based only on their beginnings. In this particular instance, it had started as a fever, one that came in the wake of yet another battle against a magical beast that had killed a dozen villagers and wounded several knights, Arthur among them, before they had been able to bring it down.

Gaius examined the wounds that stretched from Arthur's shoulders to his hips and made an unhappy sound. "These aren't healing as quickly as I'd like."

Arthur sat still on a stool in front of him. "Haven't you something that will help?"

"I've been laboring over a more effective mixture," Gaius said hesitantly.

"Then why not give it a try?"

"I have no idea whether it might have adverse effects," Gaius said.

"Do you have any other ideas?" Arthur asked.

"I am searching."

Arthur had learned through years of observation when Gaius was dithering because he didn't want to do something but knew better than to refuse and when he truly had no answer for a problem. This was the latter. "If you made it, Gaius, then it can only be a help," Arthur said and didn't turn to see Gaius' reaction.

"This may not work immediately," Gaius said as he spread the salve over the wounds. "Make sure that you clean these every day and if there is any sign of infection, come and see me at once."

"Thank you, Gaius," Arthur said as he drew his shirt over his head and nodded to him as he left.

Arthur told his father that his injuries were improving and the king turned away, satisfied. It was possibly a sign of his concern that he told Arthur only to drill the knights until he was fully recovered, but it was hard to tell what his father really thought and so Arthur bowed and made himself scarce.

There were many things that a prince was supposed to be doing whenever he had a spare moment, and others that many would not have guessed he was even aware of. While Arthur didn't particularly care what the servants were saying, it was good to know anyhow. For instance, he was aware that Cook and the kitchen staff had an ongoing vendetta against the stable hands over some petty offense. And rumor had it that the head groom was possibly, although nobody could confirm it, courting a widow from the village, as well as dozens of other details that might be useful one day.

His knowing these things made it easy to put things into motion, down to having nobody around in certain parts of the castle so he could have a little time for himself. If he had to deal with one more person politely inquiring after his health or looking to do anything, just anything at all for him, Arthur would be forced to spin some story to get himself away from it all.

By now, even someone as thick as Merlin could figure out when the prince wanted to be left alone, and Arthur knew that if he was actually needed, Merlin would search him out somehow. So, he felt no guilt about sprawling underneath a window with an apple, some cheese, and a book that he wouldn't be caught reading by anyone who might require him to use the information constructively.

The breeze coming in off the courtyard was refreshing, and eased the heat that had been consuming him all afternoon. Arthur sat in the same position until the sun had moved past its zenith in the sky and the tower was awash in shadows. He was having trouble keeping his eyes open and let them close for a few moments.

"Arthur?"

A hand fell on his shoulder and Arthur frowned.

"I'm sure that one day you will speak to me with genuine respect."

"Sire," Merlin said, obviously not aware of how much he said with one word, and how much of it was sarcastic.

"Although the shock might be too much for me to handle," Arthur said. "What it, Merlin?"

"You fell asleep."

"How astute of you to notice."

"Gaius sent me, he wants me to have a look at your back, how does it feel?"

It felt like there were blades sitting just below the skin of his back, and as Arthur sat forward, they seemed to shift back and forth. "All right."

Merlin snorted. "Is that why you're sitting like that?"

"Like what?" Arthur asked, smiling warningly at Merlin, who coughed.

"You must be stiff, those stones are hard," Merlin said and stepped back, knowing better than to offer Arthur a hand up unless he was expressly asked to.

Arthur scrambled up, groaning as his back objected.

Merlin grabbed the bowl and blinked when he picked up the book but apparently Arthur's well being took precedence over making smart remarks about the fact that he could read more than troop reports.

"Come on, let's get this done,"Arthur said and led the way back to his chambers.

The fire had been built up and Arthur considered taking a seat in front of it, but thought the heat from that and what he was already coping with would be unbearable, and instead took a seat on the edge of his bed.

"This would be easier if I could reach your back," Merlin said.

"I'd rather sit here."

When Merlin didn't move, Arthur glanced up to see him standing with a basin of water and fresh bandages, not so much fidgeting as trying badly not to. "What is it, Merlin?"

"I don't want the bedding to get dirty, I mean, I'll have to clean it later, and these are your favorite linens."

Arthur shook his head. "They are not." If he counted the number of times each day that he wondered whether Merlin was slightly addled, he would give himself a headache, but Arthur was sure that the total was especially high on this day.

Merlin scuffed his toe on the floor, and Arthur frowned. "Don't leave marks, you'll have to take care of that too."

"Yes, sire, would you please get off the bed now, you're bleeding through your shirt again."

"Since you won't let up," Arthur said, and got up and let himself be steered onto the rug, although he shifted it away from the fire far enough that even Merlin noticed something was wrong.

"Do you feel ill?"

"I was attacked by a creature Gaius still can't identify, no matter how thoroughly he looks through his books. You may recall that it was rather unhappy at being disturbed."

"Maybe it objected to all that metal."

"Yes, that's what swords are generally made out of," Arthur said and gritted his teeth as Merlin lifted his shirt up, since Arthur couldn't raise his arms over his head.

"It could be like what you do when you slip food off your plate for the dogs."

Arthur stared at Merlin. "This is one of those times when you are making even less sense than usual."

"You don't like porridge," Merlin said.

"I don't stab people who put it in front of me," Arthur said. "Although, the thought has its merits."

Merlin changed the subject. "Gaius still has no idea what that beast was?"

"No."

"I'll help him look in the archives," Merlin said, dabbing lightly at Arthur's back.

"If it's bad enough that you're trying to give yourself extra work, then I am concerned."

"I'm sure it's nothing."

"Merlin, you're an abysmal liar, and you can't clean a wound without actually putting some effort into it."

"Sorry, Your Highness,"Merlin said and stopped taking so much care not to hurt Arthur, which he appreciated, in spite of how it made him grimace.

As he ran his fingers down Arthur's back and lingered over an especially tender area, Arthur flinched. "What are you doing?"

"It's strange," Merlin said.

"You trying to act like an actual servant? I've always thought so."

"No, I mean, these are nasty looking, but right here in particular."Merlin traced the area again, "It's as if there's something under the skin."

"Like what?"

"I don't know, it could just be getting infected."

"That's wonderful to hear," Arthur said.

"But, I could be wrong, the light in here isn't that good," Merlin said.

"Let's hope."

Arthur waited, but Merlin hadn't taken his hand away.

"Was there something else?"

"No, sorry," Merlin said and left a cold space on Arthur's back when he stopped touching him.

"Do you want me to get you something from the kitchens?"

"Do I look like I need to be fed?"Arthur waved a hand at him. "You may go, Merlin."

"All right." Merlin stood uncertainly in the doorway until Arthur frowned at him. He knew that Merlin was concerned, but Arthur had put up with similar sentiments all day and he wanted to be left alone so he could get some rest.

As the weather got colder, the number of blankets on Arthur's bed increased, and it was his habit to take advantage of the warmth they provided. This night was different, he couldn't bear to have more than air touching his back and it still felt as though he was being cut open from the inside. At last he rolled off the bed and laid down on his belly on the rug in front of the fire. There at least, it felt less like he was being pressed down, and the embers of the last log wafted bearable heat over him and he was soon asleep.

The air was heavy and pressed against Arthur like wet mud, choking him until he rolled onto his side and clawed his way up to wakefulness. Whatever heat remained in the room pricked at his skin and Arthur lurched to his feet, and clambered out onto the terrace. There, he breathed more easily and rested his head on his arms, and slept like that for the rest of the night.

As darkness retreated, Arthur woke, groaning as he straightened up. He was still uncomfortable after he had stretched and swiped a hand over his face as he was covered in a clammy sweat. Yesterday's fever would have been almost welcome and Arthur recognized the signs of an illness that wasn't going to be easily shaken.

He climbed inside, stripped off his tunic, and dropped a cloth in the basin left at his bedside and swiped it over his face. He didn't feel at all refreshed, but looked less worn and so didn't arouse alarm when he sent someone to fetch his layabout servant. His efforts didn't fool Merlin, who shut the door quickly behind him and hurried to look Arthur over.

"Did you get any rest?" Merlin asked.

"A little."

"Very little." Merlin shoved Arthur to a chair and peeled off the bandages and hissed unhappily.

"What is it?"

"Your back looks even worse."

"How so?" Privately Arthur thought it felt slightly improved, like some sort of pressure had eased, but Merlin's fingers were leaving trails of pain as they went, and he was having difficulty not letting on.

A spasm hit Arthur down the center of his back and he bent forward, bracing himself on his knees.

"What's wrong?" Merlin asked. "Are you in pain?"

"It's manageable," Arthur said.

"Yes, I can see that, now tell me what I can do."

Arthur couldn't make a cutting suggestion just then because he was being hit with several spasms in rapid succession. It felt like his back had been hit with the flat of a sword and that the blade had turned and cut two parallel lines on either side of his spine. All the pressure that had been gathering under his skin erupted outwards.

He might have cried out, but he couldn't hear over the rushing sound in his ears. All he could do was ride out the waves of agony and hope that Merlin had the sense to stay out of the way until it had passed.

When he finally opened his eyes, Arthur found himself on the floor, his lip bloodied from where he'd bitten down and a strange weight on top of him.

"Arthur?" Merlin's voice was faint and worried, which got Arthur's attention right away. He scrambled to his knees, and then upright, but couldn't figure out whey he was so off balance until he rolled his shoulders and found the source of his unsteadiness. White spread across Arthur's vision from both sides and he stagged, trying to take in what he was seeing.

"You have wings," Merlin said, and Arthur was relieved one of them was able to put it into words

"Apparently," Arthur said calmly because he had to remain composed or else he'd panic.

"What do they feel like?" Merlin asked, and Arthur stepped away from him when he came forward with an outstretched hand.

"Don't," Arthur said.

"I was only going to-"

"I said no."

"Are you sure they're real, I mean they could be some sort of illusion," Merlin said.

"They're real," Arthur said."

"And you won't let me touch them."

"No," Arthur said.

"Then, can you lift them up? I just want to see where they're attached." Merlin looked thoughtful.

"I don't think they can be taken off as easily as my armor," Arthur said.

"Let me be sure," Merlin said, and Arthur raised his wings, shading them both with the outspread feathers and attempted to remain indifferent.

"Have you noticed that anything else that has changed?"

"Wings aren't enough?"

Merlin stepped around to face Arthur, chewing on his thumbnail. "I wondered, some of Gaius' books say that when one suffers a magical attack, some things can be lost."

"So far the only casualties have been my blood, and a tunic," Arthur said.

"Be serious," Merlin said, too annoyed to heed Arthur's warnings, he reached out and grabbed a handful of flight feathers and shook hard.

"Stop that," Arthur said, and drew his wings in.

"Did that hurt?"

It hadn't been more than a twinge, but there had been a sort of shock when Merlin's fingers touched the feathers, and that had been unnerving. "No, you break things, I don't want you to do the same thing here."

Merlin stepped back and stared at him. "What do they feel like?"

"I have wings, what do you think it feels like?"

"I don't know, that's why I'm asking." Merlin was moving around the room, circling Arthur as he tried to get a better look at the wings, and Arthur kept moving to keep Merlin in his line of sight, because he didn't feel at ease with someone at his back.

"Hold still."

"I can't, you're dancing around like you're drunk," Arthur said. "Are you?"

"I haven't been drinking," Merlin said in exasperation.

"Then what's wrong with you?"

"Like you're one to talk."

"What?" Arthur asked.

"I didn't grow wings this morning," Merlin said.

"No, and have you any idea why I might be in this state?" Arthur asked, as Merlin's sudden jumps in logic regarding magical events was downright uncanny, and even if he didn't want to explain himself, Arthur trusted them.

"I think it must be because of the monster that attacked you."

"I'd worked that much out for myself, Merlin."

"You had?"

"I'm a tactician, I have to be able to figure out why things happen, and to me in particular."

"What have you come up with?" Merlin asked.

"I'm the future king, and more often than not, beasts and sorcerers want to make the most any chance they can to get rid of me,"Arthur said. He had been raised to be at home with this fact, and to deal with any threat that came against him. His father had steadily reinforced that magic, of any kind could not be tolerated, no matter who wielded it or was affected. All of which gave Arthur an even sicker feeling and his stomach turned again.

He was sure that none of this had occurred to Merlin, who was so excited about the feathers Arthur had sprouted to think this through, and while he had been considering the consequences, Merlin was muttering about the side effects of magical poisons and the lack of information in Gaius' books about what happened when somebody survived such an attack.

"The fact that you've healed, must have to do with the wings, they could be a reaction to the creature, like your body grew them so that you could get well."

"That's fascinating, Merlin, could you perhaps get over my miraculous recovery and deal with my current difficulty?" Arthur stepped toward Merlin and let his wings spread slightly in a way he guessed was rather threatening.

Merlin stared and gulped audibly. "Of course."

"What do you need to fix this?"

"Well, I really need to get a closer look at the, your, wings," Merlin said. "So I can see how real they are."

"I can feel them, Merlin, they move when I want them to, I know they're in working order."

"It could be a spell," Merlin said.

Arthur pointed to one of the small, ugly statues he'd knocked over when Merlin had been trying to get around him. "I did that when I stretched too far, that's an impressive spell."

"Arthur," Merlin said, displaying his particular variety of determination that made even Arthur's temper a factor he would disregard in order to accomplish a task. "I need to take a closer look, it won't take more than a few seconds."He raised his hands. "me if this hurts, all right?"

"Very well," Arthur said and held still, bracing himself for something he had no idea of how to handle it. He hadn't been able to do more than catch a glimpse of his wings in the mirror and when he spread them, and wasn't sure how to handle someone touching them.

Merlin touched Arthur all the time, more than anyone else, but it was all in the course of his duties, never out of impulse. Arthur tensed, not knowing where Merlin was going to put his hands first, and was prepared to snap at the merest hint of teasing.

"Are you going to get on with it?"

"I'm just not sure where to start."

"I rather think it's hard to miss," Arthur said.

"Shut up, sire, and let me know what this feels like," Merlin said and ran his fingers lightly over the edge of one wing. When that didn't get him a reprimand, he did the same on the other, moving steadily inwards, toward the points where they rose out of Arthur's back.

"I thought these might have disappeared," Merlin said, palm cupping Arthur's hip where a cluster of scars sat.

"Do feathers somehow cure all ills?" Arthur asked.

"No, but magic is strange," Merlin said.

"As has been demonstrated, we can say that magic is only dangerous."

"Not always," Merlin said, but subsided when Arthur lowered his wings enough for Merlin to be in the perfect position for a sound thumping.

"What can you do about this?" Arthur asked.

"I don't see a way to take them off easily. It looks like they're a part of you," Merlin said.

Of all the things that Arthur might have imagined being permanently attached to him, wings had never even gotten on the list.

Merlin stopped hesitating and plunged his fingers deep into the feathers, and Arthur clenched his jaw against a wave of sensation.

"What's wrong?" Merlin asked, and Arthur couldn't very well tell him that his clumsy explorations were making it impossible for Arthur to keep his wits about him.

"Nothing."

"We have to tell Gaius."

"Fine, go and do that." Arthur exhaled heavily when Merlin stepped away from him and motioned for him to hurry up when he threw another look over his shoulder.

Gaius came in the room and shut the door hard, though he didn't let his shock paralyze him for long.

"These just manifested themselves?"

"Just a few minutes ago," Merlin said, and Gaius sighed.

"The king has to be told," Gaius said.

"Why can't we try and fix this first?" Merlin asked.

"Because there will be questions if a reason is not given for the prince's disappearance."

"And I am not broken or deaf," Arthur said, catching both of their attention. "Merlin, find me a cloak, Gaius, see if you can prepare my father for this development."

"I will secure a private audience," Gaius said, knowing as Arthur did, the damage rumor could do.

The relatively short distance to the throne room took longer than Arthur thought possible and the uneasy impatience on the king's face dropped away with Arthur's cloak to expose a kind of shock that Uther had trouble concealing.

"We believe this on account of the creature the prince battled, Sire," Gaius said.

"You say it did this to him?" Uther asked.

"I think so."

"Can't you be sure?"

"I will need to do further study of the prince's affliction," Gaius said.

Uther frowned, and Arthur recognized the expression as one that meant he had arrived at the simplest solution.

"Can they be cut off?" Uther asked.

Gaius cleared his throat, and Merlin bit his tongue before he jumped in feet first and ended up in the stocks for the fourth time in two weeks. Then he glanced at Arthur and winced.

Arthur had been standing quietly while he listened to the king extol the virtues of a kingdom free of magic and that this new assault on his family would not go unpunished. When Uther began offering suggestions about how best to rid Arthur of his wings, Arthur began shifting uneasily. This last comment was, Merlin thought, in poor taste, and he couldn't blame Arthur one bit for what came next.

"Sire, I don't think that would be the best way to go about resolving this," Gaius said, but was cut off by one of Uther's imperious gestures.

"I don't care what you think about the scientific value of this, simply get a blade and remove those freakish things from the prince."

"From your son," Arthur said. "Look me when you're talking about maiming me, father."

"This isn't maiming, we must get rid of those things," Uther said.

"Wings," Arthur said and stepped precisely forward, and Merlin saw that he was balanced on the balls of his feet, wings raised slightly, as if he was about to take flight or do battle, and Merlin couldn't tell which.

"Please, stay calm," Gaius said and put his hands out, glancing at both of them.

"I want you to find a way to cure this," Uther said.

"Without a blade," Arthur said and walked out with a rustle of feathers.

"Work quickly," Uther said, and Gaius bowed deeply, Merlin doing the same. They hurried from the throne room.

"What will the king do if we don't find a way to fix this?" Merlin asked.

"Then there may be some unpleasant times ahead," Gaius said. "But we will solve this problem."

"Until then, what should Arthur do?" Merlin asked.

"It will be necessary for him to keep out of sight."

"He won't like that."

"Perhaps not," Gaius said, smiling very faintly at the understatement. "But it is the only way to keep this situation from getting any worse. You need to go and inform the prince of this, and then I will need your assistance. You will have to gather several elements and that will give us something to go on."

"What do you need?" Merlin asked.

"Several feathers, a small amount of blood, there should be enough on Arthur's clothes, and I think that will be sufficient for a start."

Merlin knew that Arthur would not be pleased about being confined to his chambers, but Merlin had learned how to handle the prince's temper. He found that Arthur's wings revealed more of the prince's mood than his face, and as Merlin explained the situation, he kept his eyes just above Arthur's head and ducked out of the way when Arthur spun to face him.

"Gaius wants what?"

"Just a handful, Arthur, it's not like you'll even miss them."

"If I pull out a hunk of hair, are you going to notice?" Arthur asked.

"Well, yes, I would."

"Then don't tell me what I will or will not feel."

"Maybe just a couple of feathers?" Merlin asked.

"Very well," Arthur said.

"I'll be gentle." Merlin stepped closer, keeping his eyes on Arthur's face, trying to be as nonthreatening as possible. While it was difficult to predict how Arthur would react most days, now he almost expected Arthur to strike out because of the circumstances.

He laid his hands on the edge of one wing, and caught three feathers between his fingers. Now that he was actually touching them, the wings didn't seem so strange, more like extensions of Arthur, strange, in that Merlin had never seen them before, but not wrong at all. His grip was gentle and he glanced at Arthur's face to see him looking stoically to the side, obviously waiting for Merlin to thoughtlessly yank a part of himself out and he wasn't even going to speak up for some reason Merlin couldn't quite grasp.

"Okay." Merlin pulled upwards and took away one more feather than he meant to. He wrapped them up and wanted to smooth a hand down Arthur's wing in apology, but felt like he was already treading where he wasn't welcome. "I'll get these to Gaius right away."

Arthur nodded but didn't turn around. "Good."

"Can I bring you anything else, sire?"

"No."

Merlin nodded, making the gesture even if Arthur wouldn't see it and hurried out.

He brought Gaius the feathers, and then they soaked Arthur's tunic to wring out as much blood as they could. It was more upsetting than Merlin anticipated, seeing the water turn a deep red, and he realized how badly Arthur had been hurt and that he was lucky to be alive, no matter how else he'd been affected.

Gaius was frowning as he poured a vial of diluted blood into a large bowl and set it over an open flame.

"What is it?" Merlin asked.

"It's a shame we don't have something left of the creature to examine," Gaius said. "If we did, there might know more about how to cure the prince."

"Does he need to be cured, won't this just wear off sooner or later?"

"Merlin, how long do you think the prince of Camelot can stay hidden, or long before it gets out that he has wings?"

"Nobody has figured it out yet."

"And few secrets can be kept in Camelot," Gaius said. "You, of all people know how little it takes for rumors to start. Now, go and see to Arthur, if there is anything I need, I will send for you."

He didn't know what to say to Arthur when he slipped inside his chambers with a stack of books and a platter heaped with fruit and bread, but he smiled anyway.

"I brought some food."

Arthur didn't answer, and stayed on the other side of the room for several moments, wings flexing, and then he came up to the table and picked up a piece of bread.

"What are you going to do if they don't go away?" Merlin asked.

"I haven't considered it." Arthur had, from the very second he saw them, the wings had been at the forefront of his mind, and their continued presence made it difficult to forget what it could mean to live with them.

No prince of Camelot could be seen to associate with magic, even unwillingly while Uther Pendragon's laws remained in use. His father had been horrified that Arthur hadn't been able to avoid another magical attack, and his orders to Gaius of late had taken on the language of a man who expected this to spread further if it wasn't contained.

Arthur was not quite under house arrest, but it was a fine distinction, and it was just a matter of time before it became a royal command.

"Are you fumbling your way around to telling me that you haven't found anything?" Arthur asked.

"Gaius is looking, it may take some time."

"I see." Arthur was perched on the edge of the table, whereas the day before he would have been slouched in the chair beside it. He hadn't tried to sit in it, he knew that his wings would be in the way, and was trying to find the most comfortable position. With Merlin in the room, Arthur could tell that he was looking at him. Merlin watched Arthur more closely than he realized, and often it was a sign of how well they were getting along. If Arthur couldn't catch Merlin staring, then he knew it was because his manservant was so frustrated, he was actually doing his job. Of course, at present, Merlin was trying, with little success, not to stare openly at Arthur.

"What are those?" Arthur asked, nodding at the books Merlin was sorting.

"Just a couple volumes of lore that Gaius hadn't time to go through. Would you like to see one?"

Arthur raised an eyebrow, and Merlin subsided, although not without a smile.

"Perhaps not, I know, you have strong feelings about being overly educated."

"It has clearly done you no favors."

Merlin refused to show even a hint of fear and instead took Arthur's comments as permission to get to his research and completely ignore Arthur, which took some getting used to, but which, inexplicably, was a comfort when it was Merlin. Somehow, in spite of being the most foolish and clumsy individual Arthur had ever encountered, Merlin was also the only one who ever refused to consider that he shouldn't dare challenge Arthur. So, in the insanity that had been the last two days, Arthur was relieved to find some things remained constant.

With his single minded determination clearly at work, Merlin flipped through the heavy tomes all evening, fetching supper only when Arthur made noises prompting him to do his duty, if only so he didn't fall asleep on one of Gaius' books and drool everywhere.

When Arthur had finished picking over the meal, Merlin insisted on turning down his bed and putting another log on the fire even when Arthur insisted he only wanted to be left alone. After that, Arthur sent him off to bed and was alone again.

Whether it was a consequence of being shut up or the wings exerting some influence over him, Arthur found that he could not do more than contemplate spending the night indoors. As the torches were lit outside, Arthur climbed onto the windowsill, and as he stepped out onto the balcony, extended his wings to steady himself. It came almost naturally, although he hesitated to think in those terms.

Arthur flapped his wings to test how the sound carried and was pleased to discover that he could barely hear the sound, even as the air washed over his body. Satisfied that he would not attract attention, Arthur climbed up onto the battlements, and then stepped off the edge.

His days continued in this way for a week. Merlin and Gaius were Arthur's only visitors and they brought little news with forced cheer, and in the evening, Arthur practiced using his wings. He flew high and far, for that short space of time his only freedom.

He didn't supposed that would continue indefinitely, but Arthur was still disappointed when he came down on his balcony to find candles burning inside his chambers when he had left them dark. Rather than announce himself, Merlin sprang into view, causing Arthur to overbalance and almost miss his footing.

Merlin watched this with wide eyes, his mouth thinned in displeasure. "Where were you?"

"Out."

"Evidently." Merlin stepped back, giving Arthur room to pass, gliding from the window to the rug in front of the hearth. He knew that Merlin was just behind him, and when he turned, found him as he'd expected, frowning at Arthur, his arms folded.

"What were you thinking?"

"I was bored."

"Yes, I suppose not having the run of the castle for a few days was extremely trying. I understand that exile is refreshing alternative to being the crown prince." Merlin bit off the last, realizing that he'd said more than even he was allowed, but still regarded Arthur unhappily.

"Thank you, Merlin for your insight, I will not be requiring your services today," Arthur said, conscious of his wingspan and how easy it would be to resort to violence.

Merlin bowed jerkily, and left, shoulders slumped, but no sign of an apology in the glare he could not conceal.

Arthur lifted off the floor and came to rest on one of the bed posters where he stayed, wings wrapped around him, the rest of the night and long after the sun rose.

A quarrel with his father was one thing, he could avoid the king in all but a formal capacity for weeks if they were truly enraged with one another, and there had been stretches of time when Arthur was a boy when that distance had been all that stood between sending Arthur to foster in the mountains. But, when he and Merlin were at odds, Arthur was inconvenienced in a myriad of small but noticeable ways. With him being unable to see to his own amusements he was finding this solitude tedious. Even when he was on an errand from Gaius, Merlin was quiet and professional, two qualities that Arthur looked for in other people, and quite honestly, did not welcome in Merlin.

"There isn't a cure," Arthur said one evening, and Merlin paused in picking up dirty linens to look down at the bundle in his arms.

"Sire."

"That's what you're both too afraid to admit," Arthur said. He'd been flying again that evening, testing his endurance and speed.

"We will find something to make this all go back to the way it was."

"You think that you, or my father is going to be able to forget any of this?" In the eyes of the king, Arthur might be irreversibly tainted, and the foundation he built his kingdom on, the purge of all magic from the land had been contradicted by his own son. It would come as no surprise to Arthur if Uther found tasks for Arthur to carry out in the farthest corners of Albion when this matter was resolved.

"I swear to you," Merlin said, "I will see to it that you are not like this forever." He pulled at a loose thread on his tunic and looked down. "What was it like?"

Arthur waited for Merlin to explain himself, in this at least, he thought he might get an answer.

"When you were flying, what did it feel like?"

"I imagine it was the same as for any creature with wings."

"Yes, but you're not just any beast, I mean, you're a man," Merlin said, trying to balance his irrepressible need to aim verbal jabs at Arthur and his curiosity.

"You noticed."

"Very funny, sire."

"Why does it matter? Is Gaius writing a treatise on my experiences as a magical freak?"

"You are not – that," Merlin said heatedly, coming toward Arthur with what Arthur would not admit was a rather threatening expression.

"No? Then what am I if not the prince of Camelot?" Arthur spread his arms wide, and raised his wings, feeling only a small measure of pleasure when the sight gave Merlin pause.

"You, are the prince, whether you have wings, a tail, or are just a complete prat," Merlin said, and shoved at Arthur's shoulder in a completely disrespectful way. "Did you maybe spend too much time in the clouds? Your brain seems to have stopped functioning properly."

"As you have always had such a problem, you would know how to recognize the condition," Arthur said.

"Yes, I know, now be quiet a moment and let me get a look at you."

"Excuse me?"

"You're not wearing your boots," Merlin said, and Arthur shrugged.

"They got in the way."

"Yes, and the fact that they are useful in other ways, such as keeping your feet warm completely escaped your mind?"

Arthur didn't answer, and Merlin actually growled at him. "Your feet are blue." He reached out and laid his fingers lightly on Arthur's chin and frowned. "Lips too."

"I feel fine." In truth, ever since he had gotten the wings, Arthur had felt as though his blood ran hotter than it ever had, and he really hadn't noticed the drop in temperature when he began ascending higher during his flights.

"Right, you probably wouldn't notice if it was freezing in here, would you?" Merlin herded Arthur onto the rug, and began examining him for damage he somehow would not have noticed, muttering all the while.

Arthur was used to Merlin complaining about the battles he had to fight and generally expressing his concern by bawling Arthur out, and it seemed as if he had always been on the receiving end of Merlin's temper and sarcasm which was his way of worrying. If he was forced to leave Camelot, then there was no way that he would be permitted to take much with him, and he would never ask Merlin to accompany him into exile. Merlin would return to Ealdor if Gaius did not apprentice him in a more permanent capacity, and he would get along very well. The thought shook Arthur, and once it made itself known, he couldn't put it out of his mind. Arthur didn't let himself slump under Merlin's hands, but somehow he sensed a change.

"What is it?"

"Nothing."

"Sire?" Merlin said, and then stood in front of Arthur and looked him in the eye. "Arthur?"

Arthur shook his head, but Merlin would not relent.

"Tell me what's wrong." As if he would do more than listen and was only waiting permission to remove any obstacle that obstructed Arthur's path.

"I will have to leave Camelot soon."

"No, you won't, because I will figure this out, I swear to you, Arthur you are one-" Merlin's breath caught, and he went on. "You are Prince Arthur and you are going to be king someday, wings or not, is that understood?"

Arthur shook his head, and Merlin grabbed him by one wing, and Arthur arched helpless, and flung himself upwards, hovering in the air a foot above Merlin.

"Come back down here," Merlin said, trying not to gape, and Arthur, sensing Merlin's unwilling awe, idly caught a small air current and moved toward the ceiling.

"Why? I rather like it up here."

"Yes, I can see that." Merlin watched him for awhile and then sat down on the floor. "If I promise not to pull on your feathers, will you please come down, your highness?"

When Merlin put it like that, it sounded as though Arthur was sulking, which was certainly not true. He remained airborne a little longer, just to show that he wasn't taking Merlin's commands as law, but that he could be reasoned with, and then came down.

"Thank you, sire," Merlin said and scooted out of the way, giving Arthur room to settle on the rug, although he felt rather strange sitting cross legged with his wings lifted so they didn't scrape against the floor.

"Now, let's see what you've done to yourself." As if Arthur went out of his way to try and find trouble so that Merlin had to deal with it later. That was rarely true, and Arthur would not deign to admit that he had to find his diversions where he could.

Merlin laid his hands on Arthur's shoulders and sighed. "You're taking longer flights aren't you?"

"What makes you say that?"

"Your back is all knotted up. Of course, you are using those muscles more, what with the, uh, wings."

"That makes sense," Arthur said, and he had definitely felt the difference, it was like he had gotten more limber and he felt lighter, but a pair of wings were extremely heavy and it stood to reason that there would have been other bodily changes along with their appearance.

"You aren't in any pain?" Merlin asked.

Arthur rolled his shoulders and felt only a slight ache, the kind that followed strenuous exercise. "No, I feel fine."

"Maybe your body has adapted to the wings."

"How should I know? You and Gaius are investigating this."

"Yes, I know." Merlin's hands kept moving on Arthur's back, finding spots where there was even a hint of discomfort and working it out with his fingers. "But you're the one this is happening to, and I was wondering how you thought it was affecting you."

"I have told you whatever you've wanted to know."

Merlin's fingers slid around the base of one wing, and Arthur tensed. "Everything?"

"Yes."

The edge of a fingernail scraped at Arthur's back, right where skin and feathers were joined, and Merlin said in a low voice. "Are you sure you aren't leaving anything out?"

Arthur couldn't answer for a second and then he nodded.

"Liar," Merlin said, and pushed his fingers upwards along the arch of one wing, which had Arthur groaning.

"Stop that."

"Why?" Merlin asked, by the sound of his voice, grinning fearlessly.

"You're trying to be clever again, you'd better stop before you injure yourself."

"Whatever you say, sire." Merlin dug his fingers in just a bit, and Arthur barely restrained a yelp.

Usually, it didn't take that much to pin Merlin. Despite him being surprisingly wiry and slippery whenever someone was trying to hang onto him, Arthur had been raised to fight dirty, no matter the battlefield, and he always won. With wings, he had another advantage, and he used it, spinning around and grabbing Merlin around the waist and headed for the ceiling. The result was Merlin wrapping himself around Arthur's way and clinging on, eyes wide as he let out panicked noises that Arthur was going to tease him about for years.

"Are you going to behave?" Arthur asked.

Merlin shook his head. "You are a complete bastard."

"You know, I think there could be some benefit in learning how to maneuver with wings in a forest." Arthur contemplated the idea seriously. "In fact, I've also been thinking that aerial attacks could work in our favor. Obviously this would require practice."

"Yes, because you are insane."

"Clearly I will need someone to act as a target."

Being fair skinned, Merlin's change in pallor was difficult to make out, but still, the idea of what Arthur was suggesting made him lose color. "Surely someone else would be more suitable? Or, we could set up dummies." He took in Arthur's smirk and twisted his arms around Arthur's neck rather violently. "You've already thought of a dummy to use."

"Sometimes you're quicker than you look."

"I'm so glad you think so, sire," Merlin said through clenched teeth. "Now, put me down, or I might grab your wings again and do that thing that you won't admit gives you so much trouble."

"I wouldn't go that far."

"Would you like another demonstration?"

Arthur did a mock dive and then landed without so much as stumbling. As soon as his feet touched the ground, Merlin yanked Arthur around, and continued examining him for signs of injury.

"Let up, Merlin, you're going to pull out more of my feathers," Arthur said.

"Sorry." Merlin began stroking Arthur's feathers down rather than tugging at them heedlessly.

Under Merlin's ministrations, Arthur felt what tension he hadn't managed to dispel with his flight leave him, and what remained were weariness and concerns that he could not forget completely.

Merlin suddenly began talking, telling Arthur every minute detail of his day, the difficulty the weapons master was having with one of his apprentices, and the way that the court pined after their prince.

"You're exaggerating," Arthur said.

"Lady Elene has sworn that if you do not return to public life soon, she is going to be forced to commission a minstrel to write a song for your improved health." Merlin's mouth twitched, and Arthur shuddered in agreement. Lady Elene's taste in ballads tended to favor lengthy compositions that strained to rhyme and often led to heavy drinking on the part of anyone forced to listen to them.

"So, in order to save the court, you've nearly hit upon a solution?" Arthur asked.

"It's for the good of everyone that you recover," Merlin said. "I think I saw one of the knights sleeping while on guard duty."

"You didn't." Not that Arthur believes Merlin, but he considered asking for the man's name so that he could give the man particular attention during drills very soon.

"It could have been more than one," Merlin said.

"Now I know you're telling tales."

"You'll have to be sure, come to court, I think we can hide your wings."

"With what?"

Merlin held up a cloak, and Arthur shook his head. "You're joking."

"Just try it."

Arthur presented Merlin with his back, and as Merlin pressed gently on his wings, brought them in closer to his body obligingly. "Like that?"

"Yes, no let me see-" Merlin adjusted the clock and tucked it closer until he was satisfied. "Well, it works."

Arthur moved to the mirror and took in his appearance. "No, it doesn't. We can add your vision to the list of things of yours that are impaired."

"It doesn't look that bad."

"I look as if I have a hump."

"That would be a good explanation for why you haven't been seen."

Arthur glared. "The crown prince is not deformed, and I am not going to pretend that I do." He pulled the cloak off and returned to the rug in front of the fire, arms crossed over his chest, not hugging himself, but wishing he was permitted that indulgence. "It was not a bad attempt, Merlin, and I appreciate your efforts, but it's no use."

"You're not going to become a hermit," Merlin said.

"What other option is there?"

Merlin looked indecisive, and then he stepped firmly into Arthur's space, and put a hand between his wings and then the other on Arthur's hip. "Close your eyes," Merlin said. When Arthur didn't obey, because he couldn't see what Merlin was getting at, Merlin rubbed his wings in a knowing way. "Arthur, just do it. Please."

Arthur put it down to having Merlin in his space so much of the time that he didn't react the way he would to anyone else, because he acceded to Merlin's request and let himself be moved. Merlin slid his fingers over Arthur's wings, down the edges, and up between the feathers, back and forth, massaging gently. It wasn't a vigorous rubdown to get the blood flowing, but a soothing motion that lulled Arthur until he didn't mind Merlin saying nonsense to him in a low voice just behind his ear.

"Isn't this better?" Merlin asked as he moved Arthur across the room and eased him onto his bed.

"Marginally," Arthur said, but he knew he sounded half asleep and not as intimidating as he might liked.

Merlin tried to muffle his laughter, but didn't do a very good job, and Arthur raised a wing to glare at him.

"Sorry, sire," Merlin said, his apology negated by his wide grin.

"Don't just stand there," Arthur said and moved his wings so that there was room for Merlin on the bed. It took Merlin a moment to be sure that Arthur was serious, and then he climbed up, trying to keep his hands off Arthur which defeated the purpose of the invitation. Arthur made his intentions clear by rolling Merlin beneath him on the bed.

Merlin tried to slip out of Arthur's grasp, but Arthur wasn't looking to hurt him and so he sat back, resting on Merlin's legs but left his arms free. Arthur rested his hands on his hips and gave Merlin a quizzical look.

"What seems to be the matter?"

"Nothing," Merlin said. "It's just that you appear to have lost your mind."

"You think so?" Following Merlin's line of sight, Arthur let his wings snap outwards and watched Merlin's eyes dilate in satisfaction. He learned down, bracing his arms beside Merlin's head and let his wings brush the bed and tellingly, Merlin turned his head to follow the their decent and actually strained far enough to touch the feathers with his mouth.

"Is that what you were after, sire?" Merlin asked, and Arthur shook his head.

"If you won't be respectful out of bed, don't start now."

"I wouldn't want to take any untoward liberties," Merlin said.

"Too late now," Arthur said.

"Well, then no sense standing on ceremony," Merlin said and yanked Arthur to him with a hand tangled in his hair.

There was no comfortable way for Arthur to be on the bed underneath Merlin, not and see his face, but Merlin was evidently very happy with his position and demonstrated as much by grabbing Arthur and kissing his way down Arthur's jaw, his mouth coming to rest on Arthur's pulse.

Arthur's breathing sped up in time with his heart and it felt as if his life was literally beating into Merlin's open mouth and he was letting him hold that power over him.

Merlin smiled against Arthur's throat and ran his hands down his chest, fingernails catching deliberately on every scar and ridge of muscle, saying something with his focused exploration that Arthur struggled to translate.

As Merlin undressed them both with his usual efficiency, he brought his hands lower, fingertips rough on the soft skin of Arthur's belly and then they brushed lightly on the inside of Arthur's legs, coaxing them apart. There he stopped, and Arthur waited for a second, and then snorted.

"See anything you don't recognize?"

"It's not that."

"Let me see," Arthur said, and embarked on his own investigation, ignoring Merlin's protests. "You seemed rather unsure, Merlin, I had better see what you've been hiding under those rags."

"How do you get anyone in your bed when you talk to them like this?" Merlin asked.

"Should I demonstrate?" Arthur asked. "I'm certain there are others who might be interested."

"More's the pity," Merlin said and kicked at Arthur when he got pinched for his retorts.

"When a man is considering doing this to you," Arthur lowered his head and licked Merlin's cock and then pulled back, "It would be good manners not to disparage his skills."

"What skills?" Merlin asked, and then Arthur let gravity bring him down, and Merlin gasped.

Arthur couldn't argue with Merlin like this, but as he used his mouth and hands, Merlin was reduced to half formed words and noises that tumbled out too quickly for him to make any sense. As he gasped and tried to move his hips upwards, Arthur used his leverage and greater strength to hold Merlin in place. He pulled back to get a good look at Merlin, and smiled as Merlin raised himself on his elbows and glared at Arthur.

"Why did you stop?"

"I wanted to be sure that you were enjoying yourself."

"You really are an idiot," Merlin said, and flopped his head back down on the bed. "Yes, I liked that, keep doing it, and if you don't hurry up, I'm going to be very upset."

"That sounds dangerous."

"Your armor could be misplaced," Merlin said. "The armory is rather unorganized, and these things happen."

"You would be the one to clean up the armory," Arthur said.

Merlin's eyes widened. "But that could take days, what if you need your armor before I find it? There could be trouble."

"Oh, there would be trouble all right," Arthur said, and slid up Merlin's body, letting Merlin get the full effect of his spread wings before he gave him a kiss with teeth.

Merlin returned the kiss, not giving way even the littlest bit, and bit back. "Are you going to keep preening, or will you do something?"

Arthur moved his hand between them and brought their cocks together. When he was sure that he had Merlin's mind off making smart remarks, guided Merlin upwards so that he was sitting in his lap. The confusion on Merlin's face was tempered with a kind of honest joy that Arthur hadn't let anyone see in years, and he wondered how Merlin could let it out in the open. He couldn't warn Merlin against it, though, he would take his pleasures where he could find them, and told Merlin as much with his mouth and hands as Merlin caught on and soon they were moving in unison. The angle wasn't perfect, and Merlin kept grabbing Arthur's hip and letting go like he was afraid to leave marks, and it wasn't until Arthur used his wings to balance himself as he arched backwards, that Merlin gasped an obscenity and began digging in with his nails, as he brought them off. They collapsed onto the bed, Arthur on top of Merlin.

"That was-" Merlin was unable to summon more than a couple words and subsided into silence again, smiling.

"I'll show you some other things later," Arthur said and shifted slightly so that he wasn't quite on top of Merlin, but when he felt cautious fingers pressed to his wings, he rolled slightly to the side and spread one wing over them both, tucking the other against his body. It was awkward for a awhile, then Merlin tugged him closer, taking some of Arthur's weight, and it was exactly right.

The sun poured through the window and warmed Arthur's back. He raised his wings so they could absorb some of that heat, but otherwise didn't stir until Merlin woke up and flailed around trying to keep the sun out of his eyes.

"The drapes are open," Merlin said.

"They are," Arthur said, and turned his head into the pillow, considering the subject closed.

"Arthur."

"What?"

"The sun is in my eyes."

"Then close them."

Merlin shoved at Arthur. "I'm awake and I have chores, I can't just lie around in bed all day."

"I'm not getting up to deal with the drapes, so you'll have to figure something out."

Worryingly silent, Merlin lay motionless beneath Arthur for a couple pleasant minutes, and then he began brushing his fingers lightly over Arthur's wings, not hard enough for him to say he was being petted, which he would have objected to, but more like Merlin was exploring. He ran his fingers between the feathers, which made Arthur flinch, abruptly more sensitive to every sensation, and suddenly hard.

"What are you doing?"

"Testing a theory," Merlin said, sounding serious, but pleased when Arthur didn't pull away or complain about what he was doing. He ran his fingers down Arthur's spine, and briefly between his legs, barely touching his cock, and then moving back in the other direction. He did this repeatedly, letting Arthur get used to the pattern and then varying it, so he couldn't fully relax but was always waiting for Merlin to touch him again.

"What's that?"

"Oh, nothing important." Merlin smirked as he elicited another shiver. "It has to do with sensitivity. Not, that I expect to get a great deal of information out of you on this subject, we know very well that you don't like to involved yourself in actually feeling things too strongly."

"Excuse me?" Arthur was slightly offended, but was too content with being petted to rouse himself out of his doze.

"Am I wrong?"

"If you want someone to become emotional, go and talk to Morgana, all she needs is a cause and she won't rest until everyone else has gotten involved as well."

"I had noticed," Merlin said.

"Although, Merlin, you do much the same thing."

Merlin's hands paused on Arthur's back. "What do you mean?"

"Did you think I hadn't noticed?"

"Sire?"

"You practically begged my father to execute you when Gwen was under suspicion, it was you who found me in the woods when I was going to elope with Sophia, and you try to drink anything given to me in case it might be even a bit off." Arthur raised an eyebrow at Merlin. "I am aware of your more foolish habits."

"Well, someone has to make sure you aren't killed before you're king," Merlin said, and couldn't restrain himself from rapping Arthur sharply on the shoulder. "And fine thanks I get for keeping you alive, you would be dead now if it wasn't for me."

"Your memory of events is somewhat skewed," Arthur said, and got another tap, which made him sigh. "Merlin, I am absurdly tolerant of your antics, but wild stories and abuse of your prince is hardly proper behavior."

"Stories?" Merlin's voice rose sharply, and he rolled over on top of Arthur.

"Get off me," Arthur said, and when Merlin refused to obey, Arthur reached up and prodded him in the side, right where he knew Merlin was vulnerable.

"Stop that."

"Are you giving me orders again? We've talked about this, and not your job to tell me what to do."

"It is when you're being an ass," Merlin said.

"Merlin, name calling is generally considered unacceptable from servants," Arthur said.

"How strange, since you definitely deserve it."

Arthur surged upwards and knocked Merlin off the bed.

"Hey, watch it," Merlin said as Arthur hopped off the bed and stepped over him.

"Watch yourself," Arthur said, and Merlin swiped at his ankles.

"I'm hungry, see what's left in the kitchens, would you?"

Merlin frowned at Arthur from the floor.

"Get enough for yourself too." Arthur didn't look down to see Merlin's expression, but he could envision the confused look with ease.

"Why?"

"Aren't you hungry?"

"Yes," Merlin said.

"Then don't complain and hurry up."

Arthur knew that there was little time before Gaius had to concede defeat, and then there would come the matter of what Uther could do with an heir that was, under his laws, damaged beyond repair. There were many other young nobles in the kingdom who hoped to advance their status, and if a magical beast that happened to resemble the disinherited prince of Camelot was to end up as a trophy on someone's mantle, little could be done but reward the one responsible.

Merlin had been at court for over a year, and he was still, in many ways, too innocent. He could keep secrets, if he held onto them with both hands, but pieces of them still slipped out when he smiled and he depended on others to ignore his mistakes and to laugh and look the other way. Now, if Merlin stayed close to Arthur, everyone would take notice of what Merlin was doing. They had to make the best of their abilities, whatever they were.

Arthur left the drapes open, knowing that from the courtyard nobody could see what was going on in his chambers. He walked around, wings fanned out, almost lifting off the floor as he thought about what course of action to take. Part of it depended on how Merlin answered some specific questions, and then they would have to see.

"I brought bread and fruit," Merlin said and brought it over. "What are you doing?"

"I'm thinking," Arthur said. "Go ahead, help yourself."

"It's your breakfast."

"You brought enough for two, Merlin, and I want to discuss something with you."

Not needing to be told more than once to have a meal, Merlin dug in. "What's that?"

"I clearly can't stay in here forever, and I know that in spite of all the pretty stories you and Gaius have been spinning for my father, you aren't any closer to turning me back to the way I used to be."

"Arthur-"

"No need to dress up the truth, Merlin, we can both see it for what it is."

Merlin sat down heavily in a chair and chewed on a piece of bread, eyes flicking up to Arthur and then back to the floor. "I didn't want you to think it was impossible to be normal again."

"When have I ever been like other men?" Arthur asked. "I'm not being facetious, Merlin, merely honest. I am a prince, and no matter what my appearance may be, there are certain facts that will always be true."

"No, you're not like anybody else," Merlin said, but he was smiling.

"You've never had any trouble handling that."

"Well, maybe when we first met. I thought you were a bit of an idiot."

"No, you thought I was an ass."

"Are first impressions ever wrong?"

"You should hope so, you seemed to be the rudest, most poorly educated peasant that ever blundered into my way," Arthur said, and grinned.

"We'll add blindness to the conditions you have to overcome," Merlin said. "Tell me what you're planning. Do you want me to lie to the king again?"

"No, I have something else in mind. But, I will need your help."

"Whatever I can do, I will."

"Listen before you agree to anything," Arthur said. "The law says that nothing of the time before the Purge can be tolerated in Camelot. Anyone who allies themselves with magic is risking their life merely by staying here."

"Yes," Merlin said. "That doesn't mean you're in danger, you're safe."

"Nobody is beyond reproach, Merlin. Anyone can be corrupted by magic."

"Is that what you think happened to you? That you're sick?"

"No, but it doesn't matter that I know better."

Merlin thought it through. "The king won't believe you?"

"Not for much longer. He already thinks that I need to be kept out of the way, I'm sure it won't be long before enough doubt is raised that I have to be removed from succession."

"You mean that would send you away? Exile you?" Merlin asked. "That couldn't ever happen."

"No? My father will not tolerate magic. To him, there is nothing more important than defending his kingdom against it."

"It hasn't been that way forever. There used to be magic in Albion."

Arthur knew the stories, how magic was the reason his mother, Camelot's beloved queen had died too young, and from that moment forward, Uther had refused to condone its presence. His only child was now an embodiment of everything he hated, and Arthur would not assume that another powerful emotion might take precedence.

"Yes, there was, and I believe there still is," Arthur said, watching Merlin as he tensed.

"You do?"

"Merlin."

"Sire?"

"Do you think less of me because of what's happened?" Arthur asked.

"No."

"Then, why would I?"

Trying not to look like a cornered rabbit, Merlin shook his head. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Honestly, Merlin, how dense do you think I am?" When Merlin didn't answer, Arthur grimaced. "That shouldn't be something you think about."

"Funny that I have to."

"Only to you."

Merlin bit into an apple. "You have an idea of how to prove yourself."

"I do."

"Is it going to be dangerous?"

"It could be."

"Am I going to end up in the stocks again?"

"Hopefully that's the worst thing that happens," Arthur said.

"Wonderful."

"Do you want to hear it or not?"

"I'm going to get dragged into it whether I like it or not, so tell me already."

"Your enthusiasm is distressingly underwhelming," Arthur said.

"I could say the same for your intelligence."

"Merlin," Arthur said and let his wings speak for him, and he didn't have to continue speaking, because there wasn't a retort. Arthur flexed his wings again and Merlin was still silent. When Arthur glanced his way, he noticed that Merlin was sitting in exactly the same position he had been when Arthur began talking and that he seemed to be almost hypnotized by something. As he brought his wings down against his back again, Merlin's eyes followed them, and Arthur realized what was holding Merlin's attention so completely. "Are you listening to me?"

"Yes," Merlin said, and it wasn't as though Arthur thought Merlin would be honest about this when he wouldn't share other things, and he let it be.

"I have a plan."

"You said that already."

It was good to know that Merlin could still sound exasperated and yet wasn't able to tear his eyes away from Arthur's wings, and so Arthur kept them mantled while he talked, for the most part at least, he couldn't help enjoying that glazed look on Merlin's face a bit more than he should.

"My father will not tolerate magic so long as he is alive."

"I know." Merlin never watched an execution if he could help it and it was evident on his face. "And you've been attacked by a creature of magic," he continued, as Arthur nodded encouragingly. "Making you someone he doesn't know what to do with."

"He doesn't think I can be trusted, because I'm being controlled by magic."

"But you're not."

"Merlin, this is about what he believes, not what we know is true." Arthur let Merlin take that in as he worried at his lip and then spoke up, as if he hadn't noticed Arthur's choice of words.

"What do we do about it? I've been searching for ways to make them disappear, Arthur, truly I have."

"I believe you." Arthur touched Merlin's shoulder. "The time for that has passed. I don't want them to be taken away, I want to control them."

No one else could tell Arthur that he was an idiot and a genius in the same breath, and Merlin didn't stop expanding on that for the next hour. It was more entertaining than demeaning, although Arthur did draw the line at letting Merlin raise his voice, and finally resorted to brushing Merlin's face with the tip of his wings, which yielded silence and a more cooperative attitude immediately.

"How is this going to work?"

"I have to experiment," Arthur said. It was like he'd done with other skills as he learned his limitations and pushed beyond them.

"Like you've been doing when you flap around the countryside," Merlin said.

"More seriously."

"That was for fun?"

"Some of it," Arthur said, because the thrill of stepping off into thin air had yet to grow old.

"What will you do to practice, then?" Merlin asked.

Arthur grinned, and grabbed Merlin by the wrist, tugging him to his feet, and lacing their fingers together. He led the way to the window, and Merlin hung back, objecting in as many words as possible.

"You aren't serious. I can't go with you, there's no way you can carry me, I'm really much heavier than I look."

"I've already picked you up without any trouble," Arthur said.

"That was with there being something beneath us, granted, it was the floor, but it was much closer than the ground will be, and I don't fancy having any of my bones broken."

Arthur tightened his fingers on Merlin's without meaning to and turned his face away. "Who else can I trust to do this with me?"

Merlin made a small sound, and tipped into Arthur's shoulder. "I will expect to be let out of the stocks right away."

"Done."

"When do you want to start?"

The sun was up and people where moving around the courtyard, none of them looking up at the sky, assuming that sun and clouds were the only things that could ever hang above them. If he got enough height and speed, nobody would ever see Arthur take off, and he'd been practicing enough to know he was good enough.

"Now."

Merlin hung on, but didn't act like he was truly scared. Before he'd taken off, Arthur had told him what to do.

"If you do fall, don't worry about me, just do what you have to so you don't get hurt."

"What's that?

"I know you're good at improvising, Merlin, you'll manage." Then Arthur put an arm around Merlin's waist, waited for an updraft and pumped his wings, propelling them upwards so quickly that even if anyone heard the sound, there was nothing to see when they turned around.

They were over a field, out of sight of any farm, the turrets of Camelot barely visible on the horizon when Arthur felt it was time to test his control.

"Hold on," Arthur said, and thought about how it had first felt when his wings materialized, and the free fall of knowing he would never be the same. He breathed out hard, spun in the air and forced himself to let go.

"What are you doing?" Merlin yelled.

When his wings had burst free of his skin, Arthur had been releasing something, and now he gathered it back, one inch at a time, until he could claim it again.

"Arthur, have you lost your mind? We're going to hit the ground any second now, and it's going to hurt a lot."

Hills and trees were coming sharply into focus, and Arthur knew there was very little time before it was too late.

"I know."

"Then bring your wings back."

"I'm doing my best."

"Do better," Merlin said, and it was only the same thing he asked of Arthur every day, and he never wanted to do less than that for Merlin.

Nothing tore as he let his wings unfurl again, and then it was as simple as evaluating the wind and finding a clearing to land in. Their feet hadn't even touched the earth when Merlin began shaking Arthur and berating him loudly.

"You idiot, you didn't tell me what you were going to do, did you even know, or were you hoping that it would occur to you as you were falling to your death?"

"I had it nearly figured out," Arthur said. The specifics of what he was going to do hadn't been clear, but once he only had a few seconds to react, the decision had come to him. Even if he hadn't happened across the solution, he had known he could count on Merlin. "It wasn't as though I was the only one that could have saved us. You were there too."

"I don't have wings," Merlin said and probably would have tried to check Arthur's vision to make sure he didn't have a concussion if Arthur hadn't talked over him.

"Have you ever needed them to avoid trouble?"

Merlin let go of Arthur and stepped back unsteadily.

"We should get back to the castle, I don't know if this will be permanent, or if the wings will appear at any second, and you wanted to prove to the king that you were still the best candidate for crown prince."

"I'm the only candidate, Merlin," as if Arthur had never had any doubts, "and you're doing a terrible job of trying to change the subject, although please, go ahead and try to convince me I don't know what's been going on."

"How long have you known? About me?" Merlin asked.

"You told my father that you were a sorcerer."

"Then you told him I was in love with Gwen."

"To save you from being burned at the stake. I thought that might not agree with you," Arthur said and kept his distance from Merlin who was still staring openly.

"I was trying to stop them from executing Gwen."

"By revealing yourself as a magical spy who had been in a position to influence the prince of Albion." Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose. Heights didn't give him a headache, but puzzling out Merlin's peculiar logic might. "How could you imagine that you wouldn't be killed."

"I didn't think about what would happen. Anyhow, I would have escaped."

"Then you would have had to leave."

"Not forever."

Arthur didn't know how to make it clear how the mere suggestion of Merlin leaving cut more deeply and messily than a blade. "You would have been forced to leave, Merlin, and until I took the throne, a reward would be on your head and that of anyone you knew." He said repeated himself. "You could not have stayed in Albion."

"Sire," Merlin said, but Arthur refused to raise his head. "It would not have lasted, and as soon as you were king, I would return."

"It might have been years, Merlin." Arthur couldn't ask what he was supposed to do without Merlin at his side, that he had grown accustomed to it, the nuisance, the comfort of it, and that to do without him would be intolerable.

"Arthur, I will never leave you," Merlin said, and there was a ferocity in his voice that Arthur knew from the battlefield, the kind that would spill blood. He came forward and put his hands on Arthur's shoulders. "No matter what you do, even if you insist on doing the most insane thing you can imagine, I will not abandon you. Never." Merlin whispered the last word in Arthur's ear and turned his face so his lips brushed Arthur's cheek, somehow the inches between them were too much and Merlin had backed Arthur into a tree.

Merlin's hands were level with Arthur's waist when he reached out and began untying the laces, eyes on Arthur the whole time, breathing heavily when he dropped to his knees.

This was not entirely unfamiliar to Arthur, though he did not demand or encourage it, and nobody had ever looked at him the way Merlin did before he took Arthur in his mouth.

Arthur tried not to grab Merlin's hair or push him down further, and his hands ended up tangled in his hair as he moaned.

"Good?" Merlin asked, and Arthur swore.

"You have to ask?"

"Well, your opinion of my work is usually low, sire, I wouldn't want to think I was a disappointment."

"Merlin, if you don't give me something to judge your performance by, I will be forced to leave you in the stocks until you learn how to take pride in your performance."

"That could be quite a long time," Merlin said and grinned. "Maybe I should apply myself more."

"If that's possible," Arthur said, and groaned when Merlin rolled his eyes and ran his tongue down the underside of Arthur's cock. It was fortunate that Merlin had decided to prove himself through apply himself rather than continuing to tease Arthur, because now there was no chance that Arthur would be able to make a witty retort for a good long while.

When Arthur shuddered, control disintegrating, Merlin got to his feet, but kept his hand on Arthur, and let Arthur put his face against his shoulder and he hung on. Still breathing heavily, Arthur ran his hands down Merlin's chest, shoved up his tunic so he could loosen Merlin's breeches and get a hand inside.

"Arthur, you don't need to, really," Merlin said, and it was laughable, except for the way he was trembling, and digging his fingernails into Arthur's neck as he tried not to direct Arthur's movements.

"Shut up, Merlin."

"Yes, sire," Merlin said and yelped as Arthur bit his neck.

"Don't call me that when we're doing this."

"You don't like it?"

"Merlin, you don't even mean it when you should, so be quiet or I will make you."

Instead of being intimidated, Merlin looked intrigued. "How?"

Arthur kissed him and curled his fingers around Merlin's cock, using a rhythm that he preferred when he had time to lay back and take his time, and Merlin made his appreciation known, every so often telling Arthur to go faster or to do something again. When he lost his footing and slumped into Arthur, it was easy to take his weight, and Arthur indulged himself and ran his fingers up Merlin's back and through his hair, ruffling it even further until Merlin recovered and told Arthur to stop. The ensuing scuffle would most likely conclude with one or both of them on the ground, but Arthur had been wanting to try several moves in midair, and with the right provocation, Merlin might retaliate and that would make it very worthwhile.


End file.
